


The Heart of the Camellia

by harlot_of_oblivion



Series: A Rose Among the Briars [7]
Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: Baking, Classical Music, Developing Relationship, F/M, FLOWER PUNS, Family Feels, Female Reader, Flirting, Flower Crowns, Flowers, Fluff and Humor, Forehead Kisses, Forehead Touching, Gardens & Gardening, Hijinks & Shenanigans, House Cleaning, Language of Flowers, Light Angst, Meet the Family, Music, Mutual Pining, Nervous Vergil, Piano, Romantic Fluff, Romantic Gestures, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Vergil being a tease, Wingman Dante
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-30
Updated: 2020-02-08
Packaged: 2021-02-25 22:34:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21603073
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/harlot_of_oblivion/pseuds/harlot_of_oblivion
Summary: The big days is getting closer and you are making good time with the flowers, all thanks to a very helpful devil known as Vergil Sparda. You decide to bring him a thank you gift, which results in a invitation to dinner with the rest of the crew. Little do you know that the darling devil of your heart means to ask you to be his date to the wedding.
Relationships: Vergil (Devil May Cry)/Reader, Vergil (Devil May Cry)/You
Series: A Rose Among the Briars [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1434340
Comments: 75
Kudos: 195
Collections: Devil May Cry - Vergil x Reader/OC Recommendations





	1. Family of Flowers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You decide to bake a sweet treat for Vergil and bring it to the shop, finding what you've desperately longed for along the way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here it is! Sorry for the delay...this holiday season is kicking my butt. 😤 I'll do my best to finish this part before the year is out, but it may not happen since I’m planning another fic to be a nice ‘n’ spicy holiday treat. 😏
> 
> Anyway! Without further ado, the first half of Part 7! ❤❤❤

For the past few weeks, you have been working nonstop, arranging all the final details and flowers for the Sparda wedding. You did not have the time to take a day off until now, and you are not enjoying it in the garden for once. Instead, you are bustling around your kitchen, preheating the oven before sprinkling flour all over the counter and turning out a ball of red velvet dough onto its surface. 

You always thought that if you were not a gardener and florist extraordinaire, you would probably be a pastry chef. There is just something about baking sweet treats that brings you the same exact joy as tending to the flowers in your garden. And sometimes, you can have the best of both professions: decorative treats depicting beautiful blooms or even having actual flowers in the treat itself! That is exactly what you plan to do to the dough you are currently rolling out, spreading a layer of cinnamon and brown sugar over it before rolling it up jelly-roll style.

 _It’s not blueberry or apple, but I hope he likes it all the same_ , you thought nervously as you grab a knife and begin slicing the log of dough. 

Vergil has visited your garden every single day since that demon attack near your home. You always welcome him with open arms and a warm smile despite being really busy, and he always adamantly offers his assistance with whatever you are working on that day. Those times you taught him a thing or two become your saving grace, lessening the burden and stress of getting this done on such short notice. It does make you feel a bit guilty though for needing help, and you have tried to let him know that he should not feel obligated to aid you. But he just gives you what you refer to as his “motivational smolder” and tells you that his assistance only seems fair since he is the one that suggested your shop.

 _The power of Sparda now includes the talent for arranging flowers!_ You giggle softly as you place the red velvet dough slices onto a greased pan, making sure they are not too close to each other before covering them with a kitchen towel. They need a little time to rise before baking, so you wash your hands and remove your apron before heading out into the garden. _Might as well make a flower crown while I wait!_ You meander idly among the flowers, scanning the multitude of colorful blooms as you figure out which lucky flowers will be in your crown.

You take a quick look at the cluster of wisteria creeping through the quaint archway of your outdoor workshop. Its hanging blooms sway softly in the light wind of the afternoon as you think about its meaning: the welcoming flower of enduring love. The small blossoms would do well as the base of the flower crown. You reach for the traditional purple blooms, but your hand pauses when you spot a cluster of pink wisteria. A soft smile curls on your lips as you pick a couple of those vines instead since its meaning perfectly matches your own most recent feelings of blossoming love.

It only takes a few more steps through the garden until you find the other lucky flowers to grace your crown. A couple of butterflies are fluttering around your asters, the talisman of love and patience. While the butterflies enjoy their sweet nectar, you ponder which color would look best with pink wisteria. _Let’s see: white, red, pink, purple, blue…aha!_ A group of lavender asters catch your eye and you enthusiastically pick a big bunch of the starry blooms. 

You make your way back to the house and head for your office, grabbing the necessary supplies needed before sitting down at your desk. Your mind begins to wander as you measure a couple of pieces of florist wire around your head, replaying all the moments Vergil made you laugh and blush while helping you. You remember the time he had to take off his signature coat, and he caught you staring at his impressive arms. That cocky smirk of his never fails to make your heart tremble. There was also the time he got his hair wet, his grumpy face reminding you a cat getting caught in a rainstorm. His silver blue eyes flashed in irritation and he scowled when you could not hold your laughter any longer.

Your trip down memory lane ends when you wrap the final piece of floral tape around an aster. _There!_ You hold it out for inspection, making sure that all the blooms are in tip top shape before going to the mirror down the hall. Your hair is already styled into a loose fishtail braid, so all you need is a couple of bobby pins to keep it in place. Luckily, you always carry some in your dress pocket, and it only takes a few careful moments of pining before the flower crown adorns your head. You do a little spin in the mirror, making sure the pink floral pattern of your dress matches the crown as it softly flares out. 

_You have never looked more ravishing than you do at this moment._

Vergil’s words come to the forefront of your mind, sending pleasant tingles all through your body. You bounce around like a bumblebee in front of the mirror while giggling and clapping your hands in excitement. As you head back to the kitchen, you recall how happy those words made you that day when they were uttered from your handsome devil. Honestly, you are still slightly shocked that he accepted your dandelions. And when he presented a cabbage rose and put it in your hair...your cheeks still turn pink just thinking about it!

When you to get to the kitchen, you make sure that the red velvet slices have risen enough before sliding them into the preheated oven. While they bake to perfection you get started on another craft project: putting together a decorative pastry box. You reach into the cupboard where some are stored and take out a light pink one with an elegant white swirl pattern. A bright idea suddenly pops into your head as you put the box together and you quickly go back to your office for a felt tip pen. 

You meticulously write in perfect cursive **_Things that fall_** on the inside of the lid, making sure it is written in the perfect position so it can be read correctly when opened. Next, you write some things that fall inside the bottom of the box, purposefully putting the most important thing in the middle. Lastly, you measure out a square of translucent parchment paper and place it inside the box. 

The timer goes off on your stove and you promptly put on an ovenmitt before taking out the pan. Your keen eyes check to see if the red velvet cinnamon rolls are done before setting them to the side. While they cool off a bit, you swiftly whip up some white icing and drizzle it over the warm rolls. The sugary glaze melts beautifully and drips off the side of the rolls, making you lick your lips as you begin to crave the baked treat. 

_No, no, no…these aren’t for me_ , you silently chide yourself as you open a nearby drawer to grab a spatula and diligently lift the rolls from the pan, placing them carefully into the prepared pastry box. You are just about to close the box when you think of a last-minute detail for the rolls, instantly rushing out your back door and straight to the rose section of your garden. While you are browsing and smelling the roses, you check on the special ones you are secretly growing for Vergil. Their blue buds have begun to bloom, but they are not quite ready for presenting yet. 

Your lips curve into a fond smile as you remember the day you first met your prickly devil, frantically planting blue roses in the rain as soon as you arrived home. You always pictured the rose among his briars to be blue, extraordinarily wonderful and unique as well as notoriously unattainable. But you meant what you said to Vergil in the book café…that despite impossible odds you will never back down as you gently pry apart the thorns in search of such splendor. 

_Ah! This is no time to dilly-dally!_ You shake your head and redouble your efforts to concentrate on the task at hand. After a couple more minutes of browsing you pick a small bunch of sweetbriar roses and hurry back to the kitchen, grabbing a handful of forget-me-nots on the way for flower shower purposes. You rinse the sweetbriar roses in the sink, dry them with a paper towel, and garnish the rolls with their bright pink blooms. And when you are done decorating, your red velvet cinnamon rolls look more like a delicious bouquet of red roses. 

_Perfect!_

A rush of excitement bursts through your body as you close the pastry box and seal it shut with a floral sticker. You also grab a small box full of homemade strawberry donuts you made earlier and place it on top of the pastry box. They are for Dante since he occasionally came over to help as well, usually doing the regular deliveries around the city for you. It also ensures that he does not try to steal one of Vergil’s treats. There is one thing you have found out while hanging out with both Sons of Sparda: they bicker and fight constantly like normal siblings. Well, almost normal if you count summoning swords as an everyday occurrence during arguments.

You grab your purse, carry the boxes down the hall, and head out the front door. The weather is clear and sunny as you walk happily down the street towards Vergil’s home and place of employment. You are not sure if he will be there or if he will even be happy to see you after dropping by unannounced, but considering how many times he has startled you with his sudden presence in your garden…it only seems fair that you pop by and surprise him your sweet rosy treats.

 _Hopefully, he won’t be too annoyed with me once he sees these edible blooms!_ you thought with a giggle, already seeing the grumpy lines on Vergil’s face easing into softer expression. This is the only thing you could think of to properly thank him for all the help with the flowers…and for always being there to protect you. It did not escape your notice that he is always ever vigilant, his keen eyes watching for any sign of danger while he helped you with the flowers. And he would always urge you to go back inside your house as soon as night fell when he could not stay late, making you promise him that you would not do any late-night harvesting. And you always smile and oblige him because you know that is his own way of showing that he really cares for you too. 

It does not take long for you to walk the short distance from your house to the shop. You pause at the foot of the steps and look up the building, noting the stylish neon sign reading Devil May Cry above the double doors. _Well, here goes nothing!_ You enthusiastically hop up the steps and knock on the door…but nobody answers. _Hmm, they must not be home._ Your cheerful demeanor deflates a little, but you are not willing to give up yet. You knock again and there is still no answer. You glance down at the handle and decide to turn it, even though you guess it is probably locked. 

But to your surprise, the handle turns without much effort and the door cracks open. You peek your head through the door and take a look inside the shop. The lights are on, but it is very quiet. Your eyes make out a couch, a desk, and a jukebox. “Hello?” you call out, hearing your voice echo throughout the room. “Is anyone here?” You wait a moment for a reply before opening the door wider and passing through the threshold of the shop. 

The door closes behind you and your eyes scan around what looks to be an office of sorts. You are now able to see a small bar in one corner of the room and a staircase to your left beside the desk. Your nose twitches as you detect the faint odor of something moldy underneath the musty smell of dust. _This must be Dante’s space_ , you conclude, _there is no way Vergil would be this messy!_ You walk over to the desk and put the pastry boxes down gently on it, pushing aside a couple of swimsuit magazines to make some room along with your purse. 

An ornate picture frame sitting in one corner of the desk catches your eye. You get curious about whose portrait is in the frame, so you go around the desk to get a better look. A beautiful woman with golden blond hair wrapped in a crimson red shawl stands alone in the picture, green eyes sparkling as a tender smile graces her lips. _Oh wow…this must be their mother._ You remember Vergil describing her to you once, emphasizing the way she gently nurtured him and his brother with kindness. Your heart breaks when you recall the sadness that is always in his eyes when he talks about her...both of her boys must miss her a lot.

You can sympathize with them a little, mourning the loss of your own mother...even though you are not certain if she is even passed away. Your head tilts as you remember the burgundy roses Dante always asks for when he visits. The last small bouquet must have wilted since they are nowhere to be seen on the desk. _Why didn’t I think to bring more?_ you silently berate yourself, but quickly come up with an alternative. You reach into your dress pocket, take out a few forget-me-nots, and place them in front of the portrait of Eva Sparda. 

_There. Gone but not forgotten._

You call out a couple more times just to make sure that there really is no one home. When only silence answers, you decide to at least put your baked treats in their kitchen. “They must have one…right?” you mutter quietly to yourself as you look around. There is a beat-up fridge next to the jukebox, but you do spot a side room by the bar and go check to see if it leads to a real kitchen. 

And it turns out that it does…but this poor kitchen has seen better days. The trashcan is overflowing as well as surrounded by multiple bags of what is assuredly more trash. There are an assortment of dirty dishes, tools, and knick-knacks on the countertops and the sink is full of even more dishes…even though there is a dishwasher right next to it. Just the very sight of all this filth and clutter in the kitchen makes your skin crawl. You slowly back away like an animal sensing a nearby predator and take a deep breath.

_Oh no no no…this will not do._

The sudden urge to clean overwhelms you as your fists clench tight and you stick your chin out in determination. You march back into the gross kitchen and start opening up cabinets, figuring out where they keep their cleaning supplies. Your very thorough search results in a roll of paper towels, cleaning spray, and a half empty box of trash bags. The dishwasher happens to be empty, so you load it up with the dirty dishes from the sink before moving onto the absolute mountain of trash. One by one you take each bag out to the outdoor trashcan next to the stoop of the shop until it is completely full, leaving only one bag left to sit beside the can. 

The next place you hit during your cleaning frenzy is the kitchen countertops. You put all the dirty dishes in the sink, collect the tools and knick-knacks into one pile, and throw away all trash into the now empty trashcan. There are a few stains on the counters, so you spritz the surface with the cleaning spray and wipe them down with paper towels. You swipe the light sweat you worked up off your brow, knocking your flower crown askew as you check your progress. 

The countertops are spotless, the dishwasher is almost done cleaning the first load of dishes, and the floor is completely clear of all trash. _It can be cleaner…but this will have to do for now._ You nod your head in approval while you cross your arms and smirk in victory. You go back to the desk, pick up the pastry boxes, and take them back to the now neat and tidy kitchen. As you place them on the clean counter you notice a stain you missed during your cleaning tirade. Your eyes squint in annoyance as you reach for the cleaning spray and wipe the pesky stain away before deeming this kitchen officially spick and span.

“Wow! I can’t believe Dante actually hired someone to clean his mess!”

A feminine voice knocks you out of your cleaning stupor and you turn towards the door. A woman with short dark hair is standing in the entrance as she stares at you curiously. You notice that one of her eyes is red while the other bluish green. Her attire confuses you slightly, a mix of casual and military with the silky white blouse and black leather leggings covering her legs. 

“Oh! Uh…I’m not…well, you see…” 

As you struggle a little to explain your spontaneous cleaning session, another woman steps up next to the dark-haired lady. Your eyes widen as you try to hold back a shocked gasp. Her face is the spitting image of Vergil’s mother, but instead of a red shawl she is wearing black leather pants and a revealing corset that shows off her midriff. She also does not exude the warmth of the woman in the portrait as she eyes you suspiciously. You clear your throat and try to explain yourself again when another woman in a white summer dress peeks through the other two, her auburn locks and sunny smile instantly recognizable as she waves at you. 

“Hey!” Kyrie beams as she gently pushes past the two women and pulls you into her welcoming embrace. “It’s great to see you again!” You return the hug with a grateful grin before she stands next to you and loops her hand around your arm. “Lady, Trish…this is Y/N!” she introduces you with a bright smile. “The florist who saved my big day!”

Both women glance at each other as their expressions lighten up with realization. “Oh! You’re the flower friend I keep hearing about!” The dark short haired woman, who you believe is Lady, leans casually against the doorframe. “Nice to meet you!” she exclaims with a playfully wave.

“Hey,” the other woman, who must be Trish, addresses you with a slight nod of her head.

Before you can even respond, Nero peeks over Lady’s shoulder. He scans the clean kitchen and blinks his eyes in disbelief. “Are we even in the right place?”

Nico pokes her head around Trish’s arm and takes a gander as well. “Yeah, where’d all the trash go?”

All their expectant eyes are suddenly upon you and you could not help to feel a little self-conscious as you shrug your shoulders. “I uh…can’t stand a messy kitchen?” you feebly explain with a toothy grin. 

“So, you broke into my shop just to clean my kitchen, huh?” 

A very amused Dante makes his way through the small crowd that has amassed around the doorway. “Aloe there!” he exclaims with a cheeky grin and a wink. You roll your eyes as he strokes his stubbly chin and walks into his now immaculate kitchen. His usual unkempt hair is pulled up into a ponytail and, for some reason, he is not wearing his very expensive red leather coat or his grubby gray shirt. 

“What’s up, succa?” you reply back with your own grin before playfully glaring at him, not even fazed by his shirtless appearance. Dante leans casually against the counter as you launch into a perfectly rational explanation of your actions. “Okay, first of all, I did not break in…the door was unlocked.”

“Really, Dante? How foolish.”

Your body shivers the moment you hear the familiar snarky voice of Vergil. He pushes past the crowd around the kitchen doorway and your eyes widen as you notice that he is not wearing his usual vest and coat. _Whoa…the power of Sparda must include **all** the muscles._ Kyrie gently squeeze your arm, which blessedly reminds you that this is not the time to be caught ogling his bare chest. You hope no one becomes aware of your flushed state, but a sharp glint in Vergil’s fierce gaze tells you that he definitely notices the all too familiar blush on your cheeks. 

Dante answers his brother criticism nonchalantly, either totally oblivious of your flustered state or showing mercy by pretending that nothing is amiss. “Huh, guess I forgot to lock the door…my bad!”

You try very hard not to stutter as you continue with your tangent. “Second of all, I can’t stand a messy kitchen. And third of all…I needed the room!”

Trish chuckles and nods. “She’s got ya there, Dante.”

“Yeah!” Lady agrees as she steps into the kitchen and pokes Dante’s accusingly on the arm. “Except it should be you cleaning your own damn mess!”

But Dante is too busy fixated on the last point you made. “Making room?” He quirks an eyebrow as his eyes light up in anticipation. “For what?” 

“I made you both some treats!” You give both the brothers a big grin as they both look down at the counter. Vergil furrows his brow as he eyes the pastry boxes with curious interest while Dante is already gunning for the biggest box. “Hey!” you snap as you lightly slap his hand away. “No! That one is Vergil’s.” You pick up and hold out the smaller box towards him. “This one is yours.”

A round of snickers resounds in the kitchen while Dante shakes his hand, even though you are pretty sure that he is exaggerating his injury. “Aww c’mon, Buttercup!” he pouts. “How come frowny flower over there gets the bigger box? I thought I was your favorite,” he claims in a hurt tone while clutching his chest. You catch Vergil rolling his eyes and shaking his head at his brother. 

“Don’t be ranunculus!” you laugh while waving the boxed treats in front of his face. “It’s what you’ve been hounding me to make every time you visit,” you gleefully entice him with an arched eyebrow. 

“Strawberry donuts?!” Dante gasps in surprise as he finally reaches the coveted prize he has been begging for ever since you first met him in your garden. 

Lady lunges for the pastry box and successfully grabs it before Dante. “I believe these will do nicely as compensation!” she explains hastily while running out of the kitchen. 

“Compensation?! For what?!” Dante yells as he pursues his donut thief. 

“You’re welcome!” you call out dryly before shaking your head at them. Trish shrugs as she follows behind Dante and Lady while Kyrie laughs quietly besides you. Vergil’s eyes flicker between the lone pastry box and you as he walks closer to the counter. Kyrie says that she is going to check and make sure they are not making even more of a mess of the shop before retreating from the kitchen…leaving you alone with a very bare-chested Vergil Sparda. 

You can feel heat emanating from his body as he steps up close to you and it takes all of your willpower to not openly gawk at his perfectly sculpted abdomen or his well-defined pecs. “You do know he’ll just beg you for more food now, right?” Vergil points out as he peers down at you. 

“Oh, it’s okay!” You smile up at him and laugh softly. “I thought it would be a nice thank you gift for him.” You slide his own thank you gift on the counter towards him. “And it **did** distract him from stealing your treats!”

Vergil hums as his lips lift into a soft smile. “Very clever,” he comments as he raises his hand and carefully adjusts the slightly crooked flower crown on your head. Your mind checks out for a moment as the scent of bergamot overpowers your senses. “How are you doing today, Y/N?” 

“I’m doing pretty boy…GOOD. Pretty good!” you stammer, quickly correcting your blundering words. But it is already too late since Vergil totally heard your blunt admiration. His soft smile turns into a smug grin as your cheeks turn absolutely red with embarrassment. “Yeah…I’m doing pretty good,” you mutter weakly as you avoid his amused gaze, taking a sudden interest in your shoes. 

“I’m glad that you’re doing… **pretty good** ,” Vergil suddenly murmurs by your ear, causing you to squeal softly in surprise. You look back up at him and huff in annoyance at the sight of his very pleased expression as he opens the pastry box. “You made these for me?” He tilts his head a little as he leans in to get a better look at the decadent bouquet of red velvet roses and the phrase written on the inside of the lid. 

You nod your head demurely. “I wanted to thank you for helping me with the flowers. It’s one of my favorite recipes. Do you wanna try a bite?” you offer as you reach for the roll of paper towels still sitting on the counter. “If you don’t like it I could-”

“I’d enjoy anything made by you,” he gently interjects, silver blue eyes shifting over to meet your gaze. They bore into you with a soft intensity that only Vergil can pull off. You smile at his genuine compliment as you rip a square of paper towel and place it next to the box. “But if you insist,” he chuckles as you carefully take out one of the sweet rolls, revealing the word **_petals, rain, and stars_** beneath the translucent parchment paper. 

You place the red velvet treat on the paper towel and unravel a small piece of the roll, making sure that it has a healthy portion of icing on it before offering it to him. Vergil squints at the words you have written on the bottom of the box as he takes the piece of sweet roll, giving it a light sniff before taking a bite. Moments like this always makes you so happy as you watch him chew, seeing a spark of delight in his eyes as he tastes your homed baked treat. It also gives you a good excuse to subtly admire his well-defined jawline and velvety pink lips. 

“Good?” you ask as soon as he swallows the treat, not even trying to hide the excitement in your voice.

“It’s delicious,” he declares with a grateful smirk. 

You notice a small glob of icing stuck by one of his charming dimples. “You have a little…” you trail off as you gesture towards his cheek, trying to denote where he should wipe his face. He brushes that side of his face, but the glob of icing somehow survives the sweeping of his hand. “Here,” you sigh as you take a step closer to him. “I’ll just…” You reach up with your hand and swipe the icing off with your thumb. 

“There we go!” you remark as another one of your devious ploys pops into you head. Your lips curl into an impish grin as you bring your hand to your mouth and suck the icing off your thumb, making sure your eyes never stray from Vergil’s intense gaze as you do so. You see the pupils of his eyes dilate dramatically as they hone in on your mouth, watching attentively as your tongue peeks out a little to lick the icing. The barest hint of blush appears on his cheeks when you hum in pleasure. You let the provocative moment drag on for a bit before asking the usual question that always brings him back to reality.

“Flower for your thoughts?”

That stunning jawline you adore so much clenches tight as the sharp glint in Vergil’s eyes from earlier comes back in full force. The soft blue hue of his irises seems to ignite as your entire body is electrified by the low rumbling growl emitting from his throat. Your heart beats faster than the wings of a hummingbird as the gorgeous devil of your daydreams and fantasies leans in closer…

The sound of the kitchen door crashing unceremoniously against the wall makes you jump back in alarm. Both of your heads snap over and you sigh in relief when you see it is just Dante lying on the floor. He is clutching the now beat up pastry box close to his chest while vigorously chewing the strawberry donut sticking out of his mouth. You are a little annoyed with him since you will never find out what would have happened if he had not interrupted Vergil’s approach…but you know that it is not his fault, so you just let your agitation go with a sweet smile. 

Vergil snarls and stares down at his meddlesome brother menacingly, scolding him for frightening you with his ridiculous antics. Dante grins sheepishly as he stands up and apologizes for scaring you, but you just laugh since you have gotten used to his sudden bursts of chaotic energy. His mischievous eyes dart between you and Vergil before he informs his surly brother that they still need get ready before everyone leaves them behind. You furrow your eyebrows in confusion before they shoot up as you realize just how long you have been here. 

“Oh snapdragons! It’s almost dinner time!”

You let out a string of your own apologies for taking up their time with your surprise visit as you rush out of the kitchen. Nero, Kyrie, and Nico are sitting in the couch while Trish and Lady are standing by the bar in the corner of the office. They all look over in interest as you scurry over to the desk and sling your purse over your shoulder. You are about to say your farewells to everyone when a familiar hand brushes against your arm. 

Vergil gently coaxes you to turn around and face him. You notice that endearing crinkle between his brow is scrunched up in thought as he speaks. “Would you like to join us for dinner?”

“Would you like to join us forever?!” came Dante’s very boisterous addendum from the kitchen. This earns a very harsh glower directed at the kitchen door from Vergil while you giggle softly. Everyone else in the shop either laughs or just sighs and shakes their head at the door. 

You glance over at Vergil’s hand still holding onto your arm, considering his gracious invitation to dinner with the whole crew. You cannot even recall the last time you went out to eat in the city, much less spend time with anyone outside of your business. In fact, you have not been this sociable in a long time…seeing the whole crew laughing and joking together reminds you of the family you wished you had growing up. 

The longing for familial company bubbles in the pit of your stomach now. You have gotten used to being alone all the time, but maybe…you are like that one bud that blooms too soon in a bed of flowers: lonely for a time as its petals bask in the sunlight, but waiting patiently as it hopes for rain…so that the fellow buds may grow, bloom, and become a family of flowers. 

_Perhaps the rain has finally come._

**_Perhaps you don't have to be a lonely flower._ **

“Yes!” you blurt out as you run a finger up the inside of Vergil’s forearm, gazing up at him warmly as you subtly get his attention. A brilliant smile blooms on your face as you nod your head eagerly. “Yes…I’d love to join you all for dinner!” 

Vergil begins to smile back, but the crashing of the kitchen door again twists his lips into a grimace. Dante zooms by the desk, puts an arm around his brother’s shoulder, and practically pulls him up the stairs. Their brotherly squabbles echo through the office and, going by the harsh grunt, ends when Dante gets stabbed. 

Kyrie ushers you to sit on the couch while you wait, chatting about how you made the strawberry donuts and promising to swap recipes sometime. Nero and Nico soon join in and, as you laugh along with Kyrie at all their jokes and banter, you no longer feel like that one lone bud hoping for rain. 

You have finally found your family of flowers at Devil May Cry. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The poem used for the cute hidden message in the pastry box is Things that fall by ivyandrose. And I may have snuck in a couple of references from Disney movies in there...I couldn't resist. 🙈


	2. Wild Roses, Wild Nights

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After having dinner with the rest of the crew, Vergil offers to walk you home while trying to solve a puzzling conundrum: how to ask you to be his date to the wedding.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's finally back after two LONG months! Hope you guys enjoy this flowery installment! 🌺😊🌺

There is one thing that Vergil has not gotten used to since living in the human world, and that is being social among a big crowd of people. The clatter of utensils and clicking of glasses makes it hard to concentrate on his own thoughts as everyone chatters and bickers around the table. In all honesty, this racket would usually make him a tad bit uncomfortable, but the presence of you, his lovely rose, sitting beside him brings peace of mind during the chaos of dinner with the crew.

As you laugh at his brother’s punny jokes and smile happily while talking with Kyrie, he cannot help but to admire you from the corner of his eye. He especially pays close attention to the beautifully crafted flower crown that adorns your head. The delicate vines of pink wisteria intertwining seamlessly with the bright lavender asters adds a certain allure to your enchanting charm. His mind keeps mulling over the meaning of the flowers, which never fails to summon that familiar warmth deep within his chest.

_I feel the blossoming of love._

_And perfect patience will help it bloom._

Vergil’s hands begin to fidget underneath the table as he concentrates on keeping his usual cool composure. Normally, his demeanor is quite calm during these social engagements with the crew, but he recalls Dante talking him into wearing an entirely different wardrobe. _It’s highly aggravating that my meddlesome brother has been going through my closet…again_ , Vergil huffs in his head. But he relents to his brother’s advice despite feeling wary about being deprived of a familiar comfort just so he did not keep everyone waiting.

He picks out a nice dark blue button up shirt and a pair of black dress pants with a matching trench coat before quickly getting ready. When he heads back downstairs, some of the crew raise an eyebrow at him, noticing the obvious change of his usual attire. But he swells with pride when he catches sight of your flushed face as he walks over to you. It reminds him of the expression you had when he was talking to you into the shop’s kitchen, cheeks growing pinker the longer your eyes linger over his bare chest.

As he remembers your cute blunder about “doing pretty boy” his lips twitch into a smug grin, utterly satisfied with himself for rousing such a flustered reaction from you. And when he discerns just how affected you are by his change of clothes…perhaps he should change his wardrobe more often, especially if it elicits such an endearing blush upon your lovely face.

The smug grin quickly disappears, however, when the rather awkward ride in the Devil May Cry van plays in his mind. Usually, there is just barely enough room for the whole crew to stuff themselves inside the messy RV, but there are not enough seats with you joining them. Dante loudly informs you that you can share “frowny flower’s” seat just as Nico revs the engine. Vergil glares his brother’s vulgar suggestion but makes the split-second decision to sit you astride his lap so that you would not get knocked back by Nico’s horrendous driving skills. 

Just the mere memory of your body bouncing against his thighs makes his heart hammer in his chest while his hands fidget faster underneath the table. He remembers having to summon all his willpower not to visibly blush, trying hard not be enraptured by your intoxicating scent while you clutch his shoulders tightly. And any inappropriate thoughts about the sounds that came out of your mouth during the whole ride was quickly snuffed out before you or anyone was none the wiser.

“Flower for your thoughts?”

Vergil feels dainty fingers gently cover his jittery hands as your sweet inquiry brings him out of his improper ruminations. His eyes dart over and peer down at your slightly worried face, your thumb brushing the back of his knuckle fondly as you lean in closer to hear his answer. The corners of his mouth lift into a soft grin before he entwines his fingers with yours as he leans down and whispers by your ear.

“It seems the crew enjoys your company, Y/N.”

A brilliant smile lights up your face. “I can’t help that I’m so poplar!” you lightly jest with a cute pun, cheeks turning pink as you demurely turn your head away.

He chuckles softly, feeling much more at ease as his thumb strokes the back of your hand. When you slip back into the many conversations going on over the table, he notices a certain spark of joy in your eyes as you joke and chat with the rest of the crew. He knows how lonely you get outside of his visits to your garden, and when Dante suggested that you should tag along for dinner, he did not hesitate to invite you.

_And now you’re the epitome of beauty in full bloom, my lovely rose._

Vergil continues to hold your hand away from the prying eyes of the crew underneath the table. He squeezes and caresses your hand every now and then all through dinner, secretly enjoying the subtle glances and coy smirks you give him while caressing his hand back. And towards the end of dinner, he finds himself easily joining in on whatever brash banter and ludicrous tales Dante is currently spinning, inserting his own wry and deadpan comments here and there in between his retelling.

After they are done with dinner, Vergil steels himself for another awkward ride as the crew heads back to the accursed van. You gently tug on his sleeve on the way though and softly point out with an encouraging grin that it is not too far of walk back to your home. His lips curl into a thankful smirk before offering his arm to you as he announces to the rest of the crew that both of you will be walking instead of enduring Nico’s reckless driving again.

“Pff! Still got us here before the big dinner rush, didn’t I?” Nico argues loudly as she tries to light up a cigarette. Before Vergil can even refute her claim, Dante rushes over and quickly cuts him off.

“Say it ain’t cilantro!” he exclaims dramatically while raising his fists towards the sky in mock anguish. Vergil just gives his fool of a brother a blank stare while you laugh and answer him with one of your puns.

“Get clover it!” you quip back playfully.

Dante clutches his chest and gasps. “Your words…they prick me, Buttercup!”

Vergil pinches his brow. “We must make haste before it gets dark, Dante.”

And with that, both of you say your farewells to the crew before departing. Kyrie and Lady both give you a light hug while Nero waves and nods from afar. Dante claps a hand on his shoulder and gives him the most exaggerated wink in all of existence. Vergil scowls at him, feeling close to summoning a sword right behind his nosy brother, but thankfully you are unaware of his brother’s horrible attempt at subtlety. 

Both of you stroll down the street while you gush about the crew and how much fun you had getting to know them over dinner. Vergil smiles and listens intently to your enthusiastic praise, interjecting every now and then with his own commentary, most of them being sarcastic jabs directed towards his brother. You laugh at his wry attempt at humor, affection gleaming behind your eyes as you pull yourself closer to his arm.

Sometime during the light conversation, he recalls the reason behind Dante’s idiotic wink. A couple of days ago, he and his brother received an official invitation to his son’s wedding personally from Kyrie. The invitation itself was very elegant with neat cursive cordially inviting him and “plus one” to the wedding. He remembers raising an eyebrow at this odd phrase and asking his future daughter-in-law the meaning behind it. She smiled sweetly before explaining that she thought he might like to invite a friend as his date to the wedding. 

It only took Vergil a moment to deduce Kyrie’s true intentions before his heart skipped a beat. Even now, as he walks through the city streets with you, just the mere thought of asking you to be his date to the wedding makes him feel both eager and apprehensive. _What utter nonsense…a Son of Sparda shouldn’t hesitate_ , he mentally berates himself. But that still does not quell the odd churning sensation in his stomach as his mind begins to frantically reel, trying to sort out how he should exactly go about this little conundrum.

“That crinkly brow of yours has racked up quite the bouquet today!”

Your cheery voice knocks him out his fretful thoughts. “I beg your pardon?” he replies, never slowing his stride while peering down at you as his brow furrows in slight agitation.

“Oh!” you gasp. “Is that a grumpy frown I see?” you observe playfully, trying your best not to smile by biting your lower lip. “You know what that means…!”

Before he can even retort with his own wry response, you are already throwing the hand not currently wrapped around his arm high up into the air. The bright blue petals of forget-me-nots fall around him soon after, gracefully drifting down as a triumphant grin spreads across your face. Vergil sighs as he passes through the tiny cloud of flowers, but he can never find it in him to be truly annoyed by your spontaneous flower showers.

“You’re just as ridiculously charming as always, Y/N,” he teases you softly, the corners of his mouth twitching into a soft smile as he relishes the blush creeping up your jubilant cheeks.

You giggle softly before clearing your throat. “As I was saying,” you reiterate, placing your free hand back on his arm. “What kind of wedding present are you getting for the happy couple?”

“I must confess,” Vergil starts as you both pause at a corner of a street. “I am…uncertain of what is expected from me in regard to a proper gift,” he admits as his eyes check both sides of the road before leading you across the street. 

“I can help you with that!” you declare with a vibrant grin.

Vergil gives you a grateful smile. “Any assistance you can offer is greatly appreciated, Y/N.”

Both of you brainstorm about what kind of wedding gift is suitable for a father to give his son for the rest of the walk. You list off a bunch of ideas while Vergil listens, nodding his head in approval at some of your suggestions while pondering why weddings have so many complicated customs. However, none of the suggested gifts resonate with him, so you go about it from a different angle. You steer the conversation towards his own interests, explaining that maybe Nero would appreciate a gift that brings his father joy and experience it together.

_My lovely rose, you are not only beautiful, but utterly brilliant as well,_ Vergil mentally praises you as he gazes down at you warmly. He lists off a few of his interests, some you already know about it, but he goes into more detail about why he enjoys them. You grow quiet and stare up at him, tilting your head in thought as you listen attentively to his every word. Your eyes light up when he talks about his prowess in the world of music, absolutely gaping up at him as he mentions his preferred instrument. 

“You have got to be plucking my petal! You play the violin?”

Vergil smirks at your astonished outburst. “I’m quite the accomplished violinist if I do say so myself,” he claims proudly just as he rounds the corner of your street. A contemplative silence is the only answer he receives from you as he leads you towards your very welcoming home. He looks over to see you chewing your lower lip, lost in your own thoughts as your free hand twirls the end of your intricately braided hair.

“Y/N?” he calls out softly as you both walk up your driveway. “Are you well?”

“Yeah!” You blink your eyes a couple of times as you look around and realize where you are. “Just thinking,” you trail off before flashing him a speculative smile. “Does the power of Sparda include the talent for musical performance?”

Vergil quirks an eyebrow at your curious question. “It just so happens that it does.” He ponders for a moment before the meaning behind your question truly sinks in. “Are you suggesting-”

“A violin performance!” you finish, shaking his arm in excitement as you pause in front of your porch. “A stirring violin solo for Nero and Kyrie on their special day!” 

“Hmm…it’s an intriguing idea,” Vergil hums, brow furrowing in thought as he goes over the merits of such a gift. A violin performance does not align itself with the usual choice of wedding gifts, but it most certainly would be very memorable. It would also be a genuine gift from a father to his son, sharing a part of himself that no one has seen for many years. There is only one obstacle that stands in the way of this gift coming to fruition though.

“Unfortunately, the ever-present inconvenience known as my boorish brother does not make the shop the best place for practice,” he bemoans while rolling his eyes in irritation.

“You can borrow my music room if you want,” you propose sweetly.

Vergil’s eyes snap over to you, unsure that he heard you correctly. “Did you say…music room?”

“Yeah!” you confirm with a nod of your head. “C’mon,” you pull on his arm, gently coaxing him to follow you up the porch. “I’ll show you!”

“Well, this is certainly a surprise,” Vergil wonders aloud as you lead him through the front door of your home. “I did not know that you’re a musician as well.”

“I’m not really a musician,” you explain, putting down your purse and straightening your pink floral dress. “Not anymore at least,” you add wistfully as while making your way towards a set of stairs. 

Your sudden change of tone does not go unnoticed by Vergil as he follows close behind. Ever since this friendship between you two has blossomed, he has only ever seen you sad once…when you shared your complicated family history. And now, as he climbs up the stairs, he surmises that this music room must have been your mother’s when both of you lived here. An awful stinging sensation starts to prickle in his chest, not enjoying the fact that he may see you wracked with melancholy again.

Both of you pass by a couple doors before stopping in front of one at the end of the upstairs hall. “And here we are!” you announce in a more chipper tone as you turn the knob and open the door.

The strong scent of dust assaults Vergil’s nose as he steps through the threshold. It is very reminiscent of the stale musty scent of old books wafting through the air of a foregone library. But as he surveys the room, he notes that instead of books, there are shelves and racks full of various instruments and musical accoutrements. And in one corner of the room sits an impressive grand piano, which has escaped the wrath of the dust by being covered with a big piece of white cloth.

“Sorry about the mess!” you fret softly, rushing over a particularly display case. “No matter how many times I dust…!” You take a deep breath and blow a heavy coating of dust off the glass, showing an array of unique instruments inside.

“I take it that all of this is…?” Vergil’s question trails off as his eyes motion towards the entirety of the room.

“My mother was also quite the accomplished musician,” you reveal while turning around to face him. “And she played…well, everything!” you laugh while stretching your arms out wide for emphasis. “This is her instrument collection.” You gesture towards the glass display cases behind you. “And this over here,” you walk across the room and pause in front of a couple of bookshelves, “is where all the sheet music is stored. There’s even some of my mother’s own music that she composed herself!” you announce proudly while pointing to a few folders abundant with pages of staff paper.

Vergil steps over to the shelf and examines the various selection of sheet music. “This is a very impressive collection,” he marvels. “May I?” He reaches for the folders that you indicated as your mother’s original work. You smile and give him an eager nod, which knocks your flower crown slightly askew. This, however, does not diminish your beauty; in fact, it just makes you even more lovely in his eyes. He finds himself subtly admiring you from the corner of his eye as he pulls out the proper folder and begins studying the a few pages filled with ingenious music. 

Your smile turns into a pensive grin as you glance around the room quietly beside him. You hum quietly when something catches your eye in the corner of the room opposite of the piano. “This is where I practiced my breathing techniques,” you murmur, more to yourself than to him, as you wander over to a small chair and table with a candlestick atop its surface. “I tried so hard to not the snuff out the candle while I sang.”

“Now I know why your singing is always so impeccably in tune,” Vergil remarks without looking up from the sheet music. He sees your head snap over towards him in his peripheral vision, eyes wide in surprise as your cheeks turn wonderfully rosy. His lips curl into a cocky grin as he closes the folder and places it back to its proper place on the shelf. He turns his gaze over to the covered piano and raises an inquisitive brow at you. “Do you know how to play?” he asks, finally relenting to the genuine curiosity that has been building up inside him since walking into this room. 

“My grandmother taught me when I lived with her,” you answer softly as you go over to the piano and grab one end of the cloth covering it. You swiftly pull it off in one motion and uncover a spectacularly crafted grand piano. The varnish of its black silken surface shines brightly as you clap your hands free of dust before propping the lid up. The stunning visual of dragonflies buzzing around colorful flowers is painted on the inner side of the lid, a hidden display of rustic beauty among all the elegant majesty. 

You pull out the stool and sit down in front of the keyboard. “Hmm,” you ponder aloud as your hands take up position atop the black and white keys. “It probably needs to be tuned, but…” Your voice fades away as you begin to play the piano.

Vergil is transfixed on the spot as you fill the room with a sincerely charming melody. The song is a pleasant piece called To a Wild Rose if memory serves him right, but it is not what has him so captivated as he listens to your impromptu performance. He cannot help but to compare you to a flower blowing softly in a spring breeze as you sway gently in time with the tune. And every time you close your eyes when the music starts swelling up with emotion he feels utterly entranced like a bee to a bloom, drawing ever closer to his lovely rose as you continue to serenade him with delightful music.

Carefully, he treads across the room to stand beside you, making sure that his presence does not break your concentration as you continue to play. He takes the time to admire the lovely profile of your face as your fingers glide gracefully across the keys, adoring the subtle twitch of your lips as they curl into a tender smile at every musical refrain. But upon closer inspection his keen eyes detect a certain sadness within that warm smile. The pin prickling sensation that always arises within his chest at the mere thought of you being unhappy flares up again as you play the song to its conclusion. 

The final notes of the song echo in the room as your eyes crack open and begin searching for him, looking a bit perplexed until you glance over to your side. “Hoppin’ hyssop!” you gasp, jumping in your seat a little as you clutch your chest in relief.

Vergil smirks as you huff indignantly at him, still so amused by your flowery exclamations every time he manages to startle you with his sudden appearances. But your annoyed expression soon melts away as he continues to hold your gaze. His mind begins to shuffle through many different possibilities, wondering what words he can say that will grace him with that radiant smile once more. 

“Flower for your thoughts?”

He tilts his head at the sound of your endearing question. “You play so beautifully,” he declares, enjoying the way your face flushes at his compliment as he bends down to take a seat on the piano stool. “And yet there was an air of melancholy around you while playing such a delightful song.”

You wince at his words and quickly glance away to stare down at the keyboard as he settles in beside you. _Good going, you dunce_ , Vergil sarcastically rebukes himself. _At this rate, you will assuredly win her over with this frank conversation_. He flounders for a moment, trying to figure out how to salvage this blundering exchange, but your soft affirmation stops him short. 

“I know,” you sigh, “it’s just…” you pause for a moment, hands wringing the end of your braid as you bite your lower lip. “This room is like bittersweet vines growing in a berry bush.”

Vergil’s brow furrows in confusion at your words. You look up from the keyboard and giggle softly when you see him arch an eyebrow, silently asking you to elaborate on your odd berry analogy. “No matter how hard I try to only pick the sweetest berries from the bush,” you begin explaining while leaning your head to rest against his shoulder. “I still end up eating a few bittersweet ones.”

It grows quiet between the two of you as Vergil makes sense of your words, turning them over and over in his head. He finds it hard to focus though with you nuzzling up against his arm, which summons a strange fluttering feeling in his stomach. But despite the pleasant distraction he somehow manages to understand your words, and it strikes a chord deep within him.

Even though you have moved on to live a better life…the past still comes back to haunt you ever now and then. He knows this feeling very well since he is guilty of brooding on occasion. The prickling in his chest squeezes around his heart as thoughts of his mother come unbidden to the forefront of his mind. Unfortunately, this always brings back memories of the pain he had to endure over the years since that dreadful day, along with the incessant urge to get away from these unpleasant recollections. 

Vergil wraps his arm around your shoulders and pulls you closer to him, seeking the solace he currently craves while hopefully bringing you comfort as well. “If it’s too much trouble,” he whispers close by your ear, “I can find somewhere else to-”

“No!” You shake your head gently and gaze up at him with beseeching eyes. “You need a place to practice!” Your face softens as a reassuring grin enhances the rosy hue of your cheeks. “And I think it will be good for me to hear music in this room again.”

Vergil regards you curiously. “And why is that?”

“Even bittersweet berries can lose their acidity with enough sugar.”

And with that small bit of gardening wisdom you finally grace him with the radiant smile that always puts him under your dazzling spell. His lips curve into a warm smile as he lifts his other hand and straightens your flower crown. “Perhaps we can practice together?” he suggests softly.

“Oh, no!” you blurt out while bowing your head down bashfully. “I’m horribly out of practice and I would just slow you down.”

“Nonsense,” he scoffs as his hand gently lifts your chin and beholds your wondrous gaze as his thumb softly strokes your cheek. “It would be an honor to play the violin while you play a piano accompaniment.”

Vergil can practically feel the heat emanating from your blush as it rushes through your cheeks. “Umm, well,” you mumble quietly, “when you put that way…” You give him a gracious smile and a slight nod of your head. “How could I refuse a such an earnest request from such a strikingly handsome devil?”

The melancholic mood hanging in the air completely dissipates and the prickling in his chest releases its grip to make way for the pleasant warmth now flooding through his entire body. He hums and gives you a pleased grin before sighing softly. “I must take my leave soon,” he informs you, which makes your lower lip poke out in a disappointed pout. “But what do you say,” he continues while withdrawing from your personal space, “to a stroll in the garden before I depart?”

“Ooh!” Your pout instantly disappears as you playfully gasp in surprise. “You know it’s pretty rare for me to amble though the flowers at night nowadays!”

“Yes,” he grumbles lowly as his brow furrows in irritation while the memory of the Fury demon attacking you in your garden flashes before his eyes. “At least…not without me as your escort,” he tacks on as an afterthought, hoping that you understand that he only wants to protect you from another horde of demons should they show up after nightfall.

Your eyes soften as you reach up to take his hand, which is still holding your chin. “I know, Vergil.” You stare deeply into his eyes for a moment before flashing a bright smile. “Well, c’mon!” you exclaim excitedly, shooting out of your seat and pulling him around the piano by the hand. “Let’s go!”

Vergil follows you out of the music room, down the stairs, and through the hall into your kitchen. You open the back door and lead him through its threshold, instantly transporting him into another world filled with wonderous blooms. He takes in the pleasant perfume of your garden as you wrap your arm around his elbow. Both of you walk among the flowers nurtured by your own hand, enjoying each other’s company in comfortable silence as twilight settles over the sky.

Even though is quiet between the two of you, Vergil’s mind is a torrent of activity, going back to the matter of asking you to be his “plus one” to the wedding. This stroll through the garden is the perfect opportunity to bring it up, but he is still struggling with the proper words. As he guides you down a more secluded path of your garden, an impressive section of flowers catches his eye. Their delicately layered petals closely resemble a rose, but upon closer inspection he recognizes them to be camellias.

Vergil’s mind immediately stops whirling as he focuses on their meaning. His feet move of their own accord towards the romantic flowers while he draws out a plan inside his head. You look up at him inquisitively as he guides you off the path. “Straying away for a closer look?” you inquire sweetly.

“Yes,” he replies, determination flowing through him as he marches on until coming to a halt in front of the beautiful blooms. “I presume you know about the heart of the camellia?” he questions while peering down at you for confirmation. “How the petals and the…” His mind comes to a blank as he tries to recall the correct term for the leafy part of the stem.

“Calyx,” you inform quietly, nodding your head gently as your eyes gleam with interest.

Vergil hums in appreciation before releasing your arm. “They never separate from each other,” he begins to explain, bending down to pick a pink camellia, the marvelous flower of longing. “Even after death…the petals don’t fall off first like many other flowers,” he continues as his hand moves over and plucks a red camellia, the vibrant flower of passion and deep desire. “They’re always…” He stands back up and turns to face you once more with both flowers in hand.

As he takes a step up get closer to you, Vergil notes how the asters of your flower crown sparkle like stars in the waning light of twilight. His eyes never stray from your tender gaze as he reaches for your hand, and places it on top of his other hand holding the camellias. “Together,” he finishes softly, stroking your hand gently as he relishes the crimson blush spreading across your face, which can only mean that you understand what he is trying to say: 

_My heart yearns for you with a fiery passion every moment we are apart._

“Y/N, my lovely rose,” he utters the term of endearment he refers to you in the privacy of his mind aloud for the first. You gasp quietly as his body presses even closer to you and gazes upon your stunning visage with heavy lidded eyes, adoring the way your blushing cheeks glow in the fast approaching night. “Would you do me the honor of being my date to the wedding?”

Your eyes widen as his heartfelt request hangs in the air unanswered. But Vergil’s able to pinpoint the exact moment you comprehend his question as the light in your brilliant eyes shifts from uncertainty to elation. “Yes!” you burst out with a joyous smile. Your arms wrap around his neck as you jump up on the balls of your feet, pulling him into your tight embrace as you squeal in delight by his ear. “Yes, of course I’ll be your date to the wedding!” 

Vergil stands there dumbfound for a moment, still getting used to this kind of close contact, but then he remembers to encircle your waist with his arms. He places the hand still holding the camellias in between your shoulders and the other rests on the small of your back. His head starts to spin as the fragrance of flowers along with your own intoxicating scent ensnares his senses and lulls him into a fervent stupor.

You shift your head back to stare up at him with a radiant smile, which only seems to set that warm feeling pooling in his belly ablaze. He bends his head down and just before he can even fathom what he is doing…his lips press a tender kiss between your brow. His ears pick up a low gasp from you, and he fears for a moment that this gentle gesture is unwanted. But when you let out a sigh of delight and slide your arms from around his neck down to rest against his chest, all tension leaves his body as he lets all his worries go and just basks in this intimate moment between you, him, and the lovely flowers. 

It feels like an entire lifetime has passed until Vergil finally moves away, already missing the feel of your silken skin against his lips the second they leave your brow. He glances down and notices that your eyes are closed, so he rests his head against your forehead and hums softly before he speaks. “It’s getting late,” he murmurs, watching closely as your eyes flutter open and gift him with the sight of your adoring gaze. “I must take my leave now.”

A tiny sliver of sadness twinkles in your eye as your mouth twists into a forlorn frown. “I wish twilight would last just a little bit longer,” you grumble, pressing yourself deeper into his embrace as your hands cling to his shirt.

Vergil chuckles softly at your adorable show of stubbornness while he removes his hand from the small of your back to cup your cheek. Your face is so close his now…he can feel your every breath against his lips. It grows incredible quiet as something shifts in the air, the tenderness from a moment ago now replaced with something more intense. He wants to admit to you that he also abhors leaving your side day after day, but it seems his mind is struggling to find the proper words. So, he does what he has always done in the past: recite a poem that perfectly captures this heady moment: 

> **_Wild nights - Wild nights!_ **
> 
> **_Where I with thee_ **
> 
> **_Wild nights should be_ **
> 
> **_Our luxury!_ **
> 
> **_Futile - the winds -_ **
> 
> **_To a Heart in port -_ **
> 
> **_Done with the Compass -_ **
> 
> **_Done with the Chart!_ **
> 
> **_Rowing in Eden -_ **
> 
> **_Ah - the Sea!_ **
> 
> **_Might I but moor - tonight -_ **
> 
> **_In thee!_ **

When his recitation ends, he nuzzles his face even closer to yours, feeling you take several shaky breaths as he tenderly brushes his thumb across your cheek. Even though there is not much light outside his keen eyes can still detect the endearing blush upon your lovely face, reminding him more and more of the camellias at his feet. He can also see your eyes glowing with unrestrained ardor and once again he feels himself getting pulled closer and closer… 

Vergil turns his head slightly and presses a soft kiss just above the corner of your lips. You whimper softly and clutch onto his shirt tighter, which only stirs the flames of desire as he withdraws, enjoying the satisfaction that comes with coaxing that exquisite sound from you. “I shall escort you back to you home now,” he declares softly while taking a step back and offering his arm to you.

“Huh?” You shake your head and blink your eyes a couple times before fully registering his words. You glare at him cutely as you take his arm and Vergil just smiles smugly in return before leading you back to your house through the garden. When both of you arrive at the backdoor of your home, you pout and sigh sadly as you glance up at him with doleful eyes. “Well…here we are,” you state the obvious as you continue to cling to his arm. “I guess I’ll see you soon?” you ask with a hopeful smirk.

Vergil hums in amusement before freeing himself from your vice grip on his arm. He gently takes both of your hands and places a kiss atop both of your knuckles before responding. “Until we meet again, my lovely rose.”

You grant him one last radiant smile before heading into your house, but then you turn around and peek your head out through the door. “Until then…Vergil,” you murmur back with an impish grin as you slowly reach out and take the pink camellia from his grasp. Your delicate fingers caress the inside of his palm before retreating to your side, giving him one last longing look before closing the door.

A dreamy smile sneaks onto Vergil’s face as he exits your garden through the back gate, not bothering with summoning the Yamato and opening a portal back to the shop. Instead, he strolls down several streets, feeling like the luckiest devil in the world while the day’s events play in his mind like a movie. The entertaining dinner with the rest of the crew, the discovery of your music room, the passionate moment by the camellias…he is still flying high from the fact that you wholeheartedly agreed to be his date to the wedding!

When he finally arrives at his destination, he completely forgets to reign in his dreamlike state as he opens the door and enters the shop. He is vaguely aware of Dante sitting behind his desk, gawking at him like an oafish buffoon as he drifts past the desk and up the stairs without so much as a greeting. His mind is too occupied with thoughts of your radiant smile, your welcoming embrace, and that lovely sound you uttered when he nearly kissed your lips.

As Vergil enters his room, he wonders if he could talk you into performing with him at the wedding. And if he is successful…he hums at his own clever idea since that would mean even more time spent with his lovely rose. He brings the red camellia up to his nose for a sniff, feeling excited by what may blossom from his more amorous advances in the future. And as he stores the desirous bloom with the growing pile of gifted flowers, he muses that you are like its delicately layered petals and he is like the protective calyx underneath them.

And both are bound together by the heart of the camellia.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song played on the piano is To a Wild Rose by Edward MacDowell, but I listened to the arrangement by Emile Pandolfi while writing that scene...its a tad bit longer and has more embellishments here and there. 🌹🥰🌹
> 
> The poem Vergil recites is Wild Nights! by Emily Dickinson


End file.
